


Beloved

by Elvendork



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Tenderness, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 22:13:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20015599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elvendork/pseuds/Elvendork
Summary: For the prompt "I've wanted this for so long" from lothiriel84 on tumblr.After The Ritz, Aziraphale makes a decision; Crowley needs to be sure it's the right one.





	Beloved

**Author's Note:**

> Named after the Mumford and Sons song, because I'm on a Mumford and Sons kick lately.
> 
> _Before you leave  
>  You must know you are beloved_

They return to Aziraphale’s bookshop after the Ritz, without having to discuss it. Crowley follows Aziraphale into the back room unquestioningly, and only stops when Aziraphale does, abruptly. 

Aziraphale takes a deep breath, as though steeling himself to do something. He flexes his hands and bows his head; his decision is made, he just needs to find the courage to follow through with it. He turns around, slowly, and looks up into Crowley’s face. Crowley is watching him curiously; there is concern in the quirk of his eyebrow, fondness in the twist of his lips. Aziraphale wonders how it could have taken him this long to really  _ see. _

__

__

Well. He sees now, and he intends to do something about it. He looks up - up - and tries to catch Crowley’s eyes beneath the glasses. He is going to do this properly. He is terrified; his hands are trembling, and Crowley has gone rigid, his frown deepening; the pause seems to have lasted several lifetimes, but it cannot really have been more than a few seconds.

__

__

‘May I?’ Aziraphale asks softly, reaching at last for Crowley’s dark glasses. He moves slowly, giving Crowley more than enough time to stop him. Crowley jerks a tiny nod, swallowing nervously but otherwise frozen in place.

__

__

Aziraphale takes the glasses - slowly, gently - folds them ever so carefully and sets them to the side, never once taking his eyes away from Crowley’s face. Crowley’s eyes, revealed now, are wide; his teeth are clenched, hands held stiffly by his sides. Aziraphale takes a steadying breath.

__

__

‘May I?’ he repeats, raising his hands to place them, feather-light, on Crowley’s cheeks, cupping his face with an infinity of tenderness. Crowley opens his mouth, closes it again. Aziraphale waits. One thumb absently smooths itself across Crowley’s cheekbone; Crowley leans into the touch, looking pained, as if he cannot stop himself.

__

__

‘Angel -’ he croaks, finally moving to reach up and catch Aziraphale’s wrists in his long fingers. ‘Angel - stop.’

__

__

‘Oh,’ Aziraphale starts to draw back, but Crowley’s grip, though loose, does not let him get far. ‘Oh, I - I’m terribly sorry, I thought - that is, I was under the impression that you - never mind, I shan’t - we -’

__

__

‘ _ Aziraphale _ ,’ Crowley interrupts. ‘You - I’ve wanted this for so long.’ His voice is tense, hardly more than a whisper. He closes his eyes, as though he cannot bear to see Aziraphale’s reaction to his next words. ‘You have to be sure,’ he says. ‘You can’t…’ He stops. Opens his eyes. ‘Are you  _ sure?' _

__

__

‘Oh, my dear,’ breathes Aziraphale, smiling beautifically and moving forwards once more. ‘Of  _ course _ .’

__

__

The kiss, when it comes, is chaste, careful, and so, so delicate; nevertheless, Crowley can feel himself breaking, can feel himself falling. This time, though, Aziraphale is there to catch him.

__

**Author's Note:**

> _And before you leave  
>  Remember I was with you_


End file.
